The second part of Woodford, so different, but just as great as the first. I struggle to find a way to put my experience into words. So much that I gained from the place was from the energy and environment around me, rather than something physical.
That said, the finished product, seeing all of our hard work (in the tents, the lights, artwork making the place come alive), become complete as the patrons began to emerge was a real moment of satisfaction and pride. My campsite was set above the main festival arena and so, on an evening in particular, watching the vibrant landscape before me as I made my way down was always a highlight.
The variety of music and acts was something I had never previously experienced in a single festival and left me in amazement. I encountered music and dance from Africa; a range of Celtic musicians; ska; beatbox and looping; and much more.
Something I found very special about Woodford were the opening and closing ceremonies. The closing ceremony I feel was particularly special, as it involved any festival goer who wished to be involved. Throughout the week rehearsals took place for the orchestra and classes were held for making paper lanterns, which would be paraded as the ceremony began.
After the community life we had created during the first two weeks, sometimes it was nice to step back from the bustling festival and enjoy the more intimate nature of our campsite. Here we relaxed, shared meals together and delighted in musical performances from fellow campers.
New year was a night full of so many special moments, it is only as I sit here and recall them I realise it was all part of the same evening. From parties on a boat (constructed in the camp by my favourite bar carpenter with steering wheel, flag and all), to three minutes candle lit silence throughout the whole of the festival. The time used to contemplate whatever is most important to you. Dancing away until the music no longer played and a circle in camp to contemplate hopes, wishes and aspirations for the year ahead. Finally, walking to the Woodfordia hilltop to witness the first sunrise of the year. Lying on the grass beside so many others as the sky began to lighten, listening to the chanting of the Tibetan monks. A truly unforgettable start to the year.
The few days after the festival returned us to volunteer community living, though on a smaller scale as many volunteers had already left. As I lined up for my meals once again, surveying the room around me, it was hard to believe the previous week had come and gone, almost as a dream. We finished our pack down process and it was time to move on.
For me this journey took me first to Maleny, a local town not dissimilar to Woodford in many ways, though life moved at a gentler pace. I was gratefully staying with my friend Claire, whom I had worked with during the festival, while I began my recovery process and plotted my next move.
And so there it is, my Woodford adventure in as many words as I can muster in my attempt to explain what cannot truly be understood without being experienced first hand.
In my previous post I wondered how it would feel as Woodford turned into a memory and now I know. Although the event is over, the positive and inspiring energy is not. I can still feel it surrounding me, pushing me to challenge myself and follow my desires, making me feel more comfortable and confident than I ever recall feeling before.
